In Warhammer, throwing a muddle is impossible.

The historic, fine gold gate of the Governor's Mansion had now completely fulfilled its historical mission.

Boom!

The door was smashed open, leaving a huge, human-shaped hole.

Solomon flew directly out of the hall, tracing a graceful parabola in the air before crashing heavily into the plaza outside.

Boom!

A large crater was smashed into the center of the square, and dust billowed up.

The survivors who were resting in the square were startled by the sudden loud noise and looked over in fear.

Some of them thought the demons had returned and prepared to flee to safety.

As the smoke and dust cleared, the emperor's angel, the noble demigod of the empire who had just given them a speech, was now lying in the crater.

The entire room fell silent.

Solomon lay in the pit, looking at the starry sky above him, feeling like his back was about to break.

"Cough cough..."

Solomon slowly stood up from the pit, looked at the terrified crowd around him, and waved awkwardly.

"It's alright, it's alright... Don't panic, everyone. It's just... uh, this is an internal sparring session between our combat comrades."

Meanwhile, the dedicated channel was in an uproar.

[Solomon: Vlad! You unfilial son! Are you trying to kill your father?! How much force did you use in that punch?!]

[Vlad: Hahaha! Awesome! Old man, you're amazing! That defense definitely deserves to win!]

[Caesar: You two, one is purely stat-based, and the other is purely mechanic-based, right?]

[Osiris: Sigh, the intensity.]

Although they kept teasing each other, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

Solomon's defensive capabilities are indeed beyond imagination. As long as he doesn't encounter an unreasonable numerical monster like Vlad, he can protect himself without any problem. In this dangerous universe, that's enough.

This playful bickering is exactly how they've always gotten along.

Just as the four of them were fooling around as usual, a slight noise came from the corner.

The girl, Audrey, who had been fast asleep, was awakened by the loud noise.

She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up.

The moment she opened her eyes, a barely perceptible golden glint flashed across them before returning to her clear, azure gaze.

Instead, it portrays the confusion and vulnerability of a young girl who has lost her father.

The next second, she reverted to being that weak, helpless little girl.

She looked at the four angels in front of her, who, though playfully bickering, gave her an unparalleled sense of security, and her eyes filled with tears.

The girl stood up, lifted her slightly torn skirt, and bowed deeply to the four of them.

"Thank you, four angels, for saving my life."

Although his voice was still young, it possessed a maturity beyond his years.

Solomon's eyes narrowed, and he spoke into the channel.

Solomon: Enough with the banter, let's get down to business. We should take this opportunity to learn more about the current state of the Empire from this young girl.

[Caesar: Received. Hopefully, I'll hear some good news.]

Solomon walked up to Audrey, half-squatted down, and tried to make himself look less intimidating.

“Perfect.” Solomon looked at the somewhat timid girl, his gaze softening.

He tried to communicate with the girl in a gentler tone, "We need information. About this planet, about this rebellion, and... where we are."

Volume 1: Chapter 19 What does it mean to say that the neighbor is the eye of fear?

Audrey sat on the makeshift couch, holding a glass of warm water in her hands, looking at Solomon in front of her with some nervousness.

"You mean, it's the 700th year of the 41st millennium?" Solomon asked, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.

“That’s right, sir.” Audrey nodded and said softly, “My father had just made an interstellar communication before he passed away, trying to contact the medical nuns for support. The date was 700.M41, that’s correct.”

Solomon maintained a calm facade, but in the group's private channel, the atmosphere was practically bursting with celebratory cheers.

[Solomon: Brothers! Did you hear that? 700 years! M41.700!]